


Don't Rock the Boat

by Whenever_the_Fancy_Takes_Me



Series: What to Do in the Event of a Body Snatcher [5]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5342603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whenever_the_Fancy_Takes_Me/pseuds/Whenever_the_Fancy_Takes_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela has the naughty thoughts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Rock the Boat

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read Anders Has the Feels, TURN BACK NOW! These pieces go in chronological order. If you don't care about knowing what's going on however, feel free to keep reading. Just know that we're all silently judging your story-line-skippingness.... *theatrically spooky voice* you have been warned!

“I’m sorry, but you want to do _what_ with my ship?” Isabella stared incredulously over her pint at the dwarf.

“You heard me Rivaini,” Varric smiled charmingly, “we need to send Hawke away from Kirkwall.”

Isabella said nothing, but took another swig of what passed for ale at the Hanged Man. _Hmm, Hawke and I all alone on the Serpent’s Remorse… It has promise…_ “And Hawke needs my ship to leave Kirkwall _why_?”

Varric leaned back in his chair, kicking his legs up on the table and clasping his hands over his stomach, “Oh you know our Hawke. She’s either finding trouble or trouble’s finding her. This time it’s finding her. More specifically, Meredith has sent her the lovely gift of copious amounts of bounty hunters bashing down her doors at all hours.”

“That’s nothing new dwarf.” Isabella sighed, annoyed, “And yet I’m still not convinced. What aren’t you telling me?”

Varric examined his nails and smiled smugly, “She’s sick. And Fenris can’t fight them off forever”

_Smug indeed, the bastard…_ Isabella grumbled to herself. Varric knew she wouldn’t be able to say no, not when she knew that Hawke was helpless without her. It only fulfilled one of her greatest fantasies and she hated that she’d gotten drunk and told the damn dwarf all about it. She sighed and Varric’s shit eating grin only grew wider. “I’m not doing this for you, Varric,” Isabella set her mug down with a thump, “and I want to speak with Hawke.”

“I don’t doubt it, Rivaini,” Varric took his feet off the table, his grin not faltering for an instant, “anything for our damsel in distress. It’s my sworn duty to escort her pirate in revealing armor to her current safe house.”

Isabella glowered at Varric, feeling heat rising to her face, “Don’t test me Varric. Just tell me where she is and I’ll go find her myself, otherwise you’re going to get shorter by a head.”

“Fine, fine,” Varric held up his hands, placating, “right now she’s with Merril.”

“Really.” Isabella said, her voice dripping with derision, “You thought she’d be safer with the blood mage.”

Varric shrugged, “The bounty hunters haven’t found her there yet, so yes. We do.” A glint came into his eye and his lip curled slightly, “But she would probably be safer on a ship…” He trailed off suggestively.

“It insults me that you think I’m that easily manipulated Varric.” But damn her if she wasn’t. It was taking a vast amount of self-control (of which she had very little) to not walk immediately out of the Hanged Man and into the Alienage. She raised one brow at Varric’s smirk, “Well go on messenger boy. Tell Hawke I’ll see her later. Right now I have a watery beer to finish. I’ve already paid for it after all.”

Varric only chuckled and pushed away from the table, “Of course Rivaini. Of course.”

Isabella scowled at the back of his head as he waded through the drunk and drunker patrons of the tavern, fighting the urge to throw her tankard at the back of his blonde head. The hairy little brute. She sighed into her ale and was vaguely surprised to feel honest concern for Hawke’s safety welling up in her chest. Like heart burn.

It was just one more strange emotion that Hawke elicited from her. She wasn’t used to caring about people for more than what they could do for her, but she did care about Hawke. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. A vicious, skilled, smart-mouthed hurricane wrapped up in a small package with a sexy little ass. She snorted, by the gods, it was no wonder Hawke had most of their party panting after her. Varric had even put them in a lineup of “people most likely to screw Hawke.” It did satisfy her to know that she’d at least come in second after Fenris, who they all knew had fallen into the “people who have screwed Hawke” category.

She really wasn’t all that surprised that Varric had come to see her. She’d been hearing strange things about Hawke’s supposed activities and had grown ever more confused the longer she didn’t hear anything from her. It wasn’t like Hawke to keep Isabella from the action. Though now that she thought about it, she hadn’t heard that Hawke had been ill either.

Isabella scowled, she’d bet anything that Fenris had kept her in the dark on purpose. What an incredibly jealous man, it was like he didn’t even _care_ that she was willing to share. _Whatever_ , Isabella downed the last of her drink and stood. It wasn’t like taking Hawke away onto the open ocean would be a difficulty.

Not a difficulty at all, _especially_ if Fenris wasn’t coming with them. An evil grin spread over her face. She placed a few coins down on the table and strode from the tavern with purpose; she had a damsel to protect after all.


End file.
